Suddenly, the air sucked from his lungs and he felt like he was downing. The room was spinning, as much as he knew it wasn’t. Each attempt to inhale caught in his throat and he wondered if he’d somehow fallen into a river and the last several bells were a hallucination his mind had concocted in his final moments.
A hand rested on his shoulder and suddenly his soul returned to his body with a rather dramatic jerk of his body. Nyx’s eyes darted to the side and he watched her form his peripheral.
She was an incredibly attractive Seeker of the Sun. With hair a shade brighter than a summer sunset, fiery and red, and eyes that glimmered like emeralds, she was every bit the image of a wild coeurl. The woman’s smile was infectious and her frame was perfect in every way… except when eyes met her tail. It was shorter than usual and had obviously seen trauma with its bobbed appearance. It didn’t stop her though, instead jerking side to side with mischief as she spoke. A’lluca’s voice was melodic and musical, and it commanded attention without force.
“I know it’s a lot, but for what it’s worth, we’re all still here fighting. Most of us, anyways.”
Nyx’s eyes continued following her as she stood and splayed her hands out in front of her, stretching herself as she finally looked to his face, “Ye say most… m’guessin’ I knoo who tha straggler is…”. A’lluca’s ears pinned back and an expression of remorse spread across her features.
“If your guess was your father, than yes…”, she hesitated and green eyes rested on him, “When your mother passed away, he began coming here on expeditions trying to find some way to dismantle the Garleans from the inside, but as many do, he found himself drawn to them. While we see them for what they are, some find them rather charismatic and are unable to work against them.”
Nyx’s body stiffened and he sighed slowly through gritted teeth. Both fists curled in on the blanket that covered his lower half and sharpened nails nearly tore through the fabric.
“Weapons specialist, m’guessin’?”
A’lluca nodded and refused to make eye contact with him. The bob of a tail behind her twitched erratically as she sifted through the words in her head, “Magitek specialist. It would seem that he has a bit of an issue that should sound strikingly familiar to you”. She canted her head with an awkward smile and a finger raised to point at the ridiculous amounts of tattoos that covered her fellow Seeker’s body.
A shiver made its way down his spine and a feeling of something catching in his throat made him uncomfortable enough that he tried to rise from his bed. The splitting pain of wounds healed far too quickly resonated his entire being and he fell back against his pillow again. A sheen of sweat covered his face and he growled at the back of his throat.
“A’rihan, you should probably rest. One of our medics had to patch you up quicker than expected so you’re going to be in a lot of pain for a few suns.”
“Nyx.”
“Sorry?”
“It’s Nyx. Cut that A’rihan shite. Dunnae appreciate tha name.”
A’lluca’s face almost seemed sad at his sudden demand and she reached outwards to touch the man’s shoulder. The blonde caught her hand, almost pulling his own back just as quickly, and decided to press it back towards her. Her touch made him want to curl up on himself and the sensation was foreign to him. It was the first time he realized he didn’t want anyone getting close to him. She let forth a soft gasp whenever he moved her away from him and her brows knit together when she noticed he wouldn’t look at her, “I’m sorry we all failed you earlier in life. We want to make it up to you but you’re going to have to let us in to do that”.
“I dunnae deal in emotions, lass… M’nae ‘ere to settle on past deeds either…”, he kept his face turned away from her and instead watched small winter birds flit by the window behind his makeshift bed.
(Here’s a continuation of the blurb I wrote a few weeks ago. Trying to get everything set up for Endwalker. We’ll get there someday!)
By the time Nyx had reached the Raven’s Nest again, his clothes had soaked through from the consistent pelting of sleet and rain. It would no doubt freeze as the night wore on, but for now Ishgard remained just warm enough that any unfortunate soul outside experienced two of its worse qualities in one single instance.
The Seeker paused at the large, Mahogany door and glared at the little hatch in front that rested behind a few bars. It was the useless speak-easy Rook had installed upon for a more authentic look. Now, it merely reminded him of how badly he wished to kill the Elezen that tended the bar inside. Every part of him wished to stroll through the door and end the pathetic creature’s existence. Instead, he found himself forehead first against the wood and sliding down until his knees met with searingly cold cobblestone. His joints protested and screamed for him to rise again, but he resisted.
Eventually he turned around and rested his shoulders to the door, neck lifted and eyes closed despite his skyward tilt. Above him, the rain had turned to massive snowflakes that made the city both beautiful and eerily quiet. This bothered Nyx a great deal until he laughed out loud, a sarcastic edge to the emotion that could verge on either amusement or insanity. It didn’t even echo, lost in the silence. An amber eye cocked open and he reached up to dig around in the small pocket near to his heart, procuring his biggest vice. A small lighter clocked open and hefted towards his lips where he’d placed a slightly bent cigarette between chafed lips, springing to life with a flame all to eager to consume the paper offering.
The cold was almost unbearable and it gathered in his hair, snowflakes forming in the loose ponytail that hung over one shoulder. Had it been the first time he found himself in such a position, he might have sulked back inside and crept upstairs to find a myriad of blankets. However, this night he was fueled by a rage that only bubbled beneath the surface… under a very thin veil of control. The man that had managed to force every ounce of independence in him could have shot him square in the chest and he’d have been better off than his current predicament.
The Sagolii had been all he could remember, and also his reason for forgetting. His earliest memories were there, struggling to fit into a society where his birth wasn’t accepted in any capacity. It was a small wonder the tribe leader allowed him to exist at all. There had always been an odd fear that ‘A’rihan’ had never understood in regards to his father. He was a Tia… there shouldn’t have been even an ounce of fear from the rest towards him, but there it was. The children were the worst of all, calling the bastard child all manner of indecent slurs. His mother did her best to soothe any doubts from his mind.
Nyx loosed another bark of a laugh but this time his teeth clenched until the lot end of his cigarette fell into his lap and he ended patting at his leather pants before a new hole found its way onto them, “Feck…!”.
He got to his feet with a hand on his knee and a grunt as his back protested. Ishgard was never kind to him even though he’d chosen the hellhole to… well, hole up. The bar beckoned for him to come inside as the heat from patrons leaving wafted against him, his body almost refusing to move as someone shoved through the front door.
What was the next move? Did he even dare to find out what truths his ‘dead’ father had decided to spring on him? What would it change? He thought of returning to Garlemald made him mentally want to vomit. And what would he tell her? That she had to leave Ishgard because another woman was there to seduce him into allowing her to arrest him? No… surely they’d go for her too… They had to be looking for her in some capacity too.
A breath of air whistled through his clench teeth and his jaw set. A millions questions and no clear answers would be the death of him.
The door shifted again and suddenly a raven-haired man peered around the door jamb. When he met eyes with the amber-eyed Miqo’te, his icy blue ones widened at the look of pure, unadulterated violence that leaked forth towards him.
He offered a sheepish smile and his teeth looked as if they might break from the pressure he placed on them, “Nyx! Perhaps you’d like to talk over some ale, hm?”.
Reaching forward and slamming the door open fully, the shorter male placed his hand dead center of Rook’s chest and urged him back inside. There was no amusement in his expression as the Elezen took a few strands back inside, “Yer gonnae talk now, or her gonnae feel real daft in a few… aye?”.
New “chapter” coming up. It’s just to keep the ideas flowing even if the writing isn’t quite where I want it. I apologize if this shows up as wonky, long, and horribly formatted. I will fix on my PC tomorrow if it doesn’t quite do what I want. Written in my phone so please excuse the errors.
———————————————-
The hair stood on the back of his neck and widened eyes turned slowly towards the figure behind him. He didn’t need to see him. The memories rushed back to him in one swift moment. That voice made him feel as if he were three fulms again, ashamed of everything he’d ever accomplished and threefold ready to scale the walls of Ishgard to escape it.
Nyx found himself staring with one eye, a terrified pool of amber, at the man standing not four strides away from him. His stance was seemingly carefree, but his frame was rigid and standoffish without being overly so. It didn’t fool the Seeker into a false sense of security. He knew this meeting wasn’t on pleasant terms.
“Ye fucked off fer what… fifteen seasons? An’ everyone thought ye died… bu’ ye dragged her useless arse back here of all times? Are ye fuckin’ yankin’ me?”
The Miqo’te’s words were harsh, clipped, and thick towards the other, whose lips still remained upturned and smirking. It grated on him… how absolutely ridiculous…
He started to take a step towards Nyx but paused when the larger Seeker started for the gun strapped across his back, “Dunnae take another step. Yer nothin’ t’me… Old man”.
This seemed to please the stranger further and he reached upwards to push some of his straw hued hair from his face. His eyes were darker than Nyx’s, bordering on being orange instead of amber., and gave him a much more menacing gaze when he smiled.
“You’ll have to forgive me, A’rihan. I actually never intended to run into you, however, Rook informed me that you’d actually chosen to inherit my little Ishgardian secret… I find it intensely fascinating!”, he flung his arms wide and his teeth flashed in the light of the aetheryte. Behind him, his tail flickered about like a curious coeurl, animated and excited. Nyx visibly stiffened at the realization that Rook had set him up.
“I always knew your sister would never step foot in this place but I never once in my days thought you, of all people, would actually end up here. Saying I’m proud would be taking it too far, but at least you’re not a complete failure”.
Nyx’s lips pursed and an inhale of air hissed through his teeth. Any other time he’d have breached the gap between them, but it would unfortunately mean touching the disgusting man. Instead, he persisted in watching him with fleeting interest. He did what he could to withdraw from tossing him over the edge of the towering city.
“Dunnae tell me ye came all the way back from the Hells t’shit on me… wha’ d’ye really need…”, his fingers itched to draw his gun and his nerves were fading.
“I suppose you could say I’m here as a messenger so please don’t shoot me… pun intended”, he motioned towards the gunblade resting against the other’s shoulders, “… I imagine you won’t appreciate the news one way or the other, but I had a bit of information to give you and shock factor tends to get to people’s heads a lot quicker, as I’m sure you’re aware”. He shifted his stance and placed his weight on another leg as his eyes met Nyx’s with the face of his smile.
“They’re looking for you now, more than ever. The only reason I was able to find your location is because they’ve known this entire time, A’rihan. You know it to be true. But what you’ve not been cognizant of… is that you’re tied to them more than you know”.
“Tha fuck’re ye on aboot?”, Nyx’s ears had fallen against his skull and his teeth clenched shut so that the skin around his jaw pulled taut.
“Garlemald, boy. Did you never question why you were never accepted by any of the tribe? I can assure you it was not because of your controversial conception… It was because I-“.
“Stop”, the Seeker bristled and his fingers had balled into fists at his sides. He’d completely forgotten the howling gales around them despite the whipping of the ponytail behind him, “Dunnae say a thing more or I’ll sink a bullet in yer forehead”.
“Do I even need to say more? Surely you’ve figured it out by now”.
He was about to continue when a clicking of heeled boots sounded next to them. The hazy street produced a figure, one of smaller stature, that neared them. Nyx heard the voice before he saw the face, “My dearest A’trellon, that’s quite enough for now… You’ve had your moment, but I’m afraid it’s time to head home… You’ve been very bad and we both know you’ve said a bit too much, hm? You know they’re going to have to give you a few pinches when you return”.
“Antiquia…”, both of the men stuttered the word out as the woman came into view. In both hands were some form of handgun, most likely altered to suit her combat needs, and each was pointed at the two. The darker skinned beauty smiled at them with ruby lips as raven hair laid in shiny curls around her face. Eyes as red as the blood moon leered at them with an energy that conflicted with her confident smirk. A third, much smaller orb tested just above her brow and between her eyes. As she looked to Nyx, she offered him a wink followed by a nod with her chin, “A’rihan… oh I’m sorry, you still go by Nyx don’t you? Such a silly nickname… nothing about you is dark or imposing really… but I do have to thank you for keeping my pet preoccupied while I searched for him. It’s too bad I’m a little busy right now or I could have had a two for one… Oh well. It really just means another trip to this charming, quaint little establish. Cute, really”.
A’trellon glared at her but seemed neither stunned nor surprised by his predicament. Instead, Nyx watched in absolute confusion as he walked over slowly and offered the woman his hands. She lowered the gun fixed on him and began attaching a device around his throat that resembled a dog collar. When she’d had it properly affixed, her crimson eyes searched Nyx’s and her smile never faded, “Now, do be a good boy and make our second trip a little easier. See how well behaved your father is, A’ri- Nyx?”. She turned from him, lowering the other gun much to his surprise, and began disappearing into the fog that surrounded them, “Can’t wait for you to see your home, Little Miqo’te”.
A’trellon disappeared with her and his newly reunited son made no attempts to rescue him… but the younger’s realization had hit him… Where had he been born exactly? There was no third eye… Miqo’te couldn’t be… No. Pet?
(Don’t mind me, just dumping some headcanon ideas for Nyx. There’s gonna be typos galore and it probably doesn’t flow well, but this is more for my sanity than anything. Written on the phone so please excuse grammar and such… There’s more eventually so don’t worry about the confusing bits in here that make no sense!) Written while listening to this:
Daylight was fading in and out of existence as the sun ducked out from behind clouds in a feeble attempt to thaw the streets of Ishgard. It fell beyond the jutting staircases and the broad cobblestone laden walkways, snuffed out much like the cigarette grasped by the sun’s witness.
There was a slight movement in a dark room and suddenly a flame sparked to life with the click of a mechanism along the edge of a kerosene lamp. Amber eyes came alive behind it, a downtrodden expression keeping them company. The man’s age was starting to show in the lines around his cheeks.
Tobacco tinged breath drifted from between his lips as he sighed, leaning back in a creaky wooden chair with a worn leather backrest. A black tank top gripped his torso and a pair of well-loved machinist’s chaps clung to his thighs. He’d kicked his boots off haphazardly somewhere when he’d arrived to the apartment and one of them hung precariously on the edge of the bed, ready to join its matched brethren on the floor next to it.
Something about his posture gave away the unusual unease in the Miqo’te’s body. He was stiff. Too tense. The tendons in his arms strained as he simply picked up a few metal findings on the old cherry desk behind him and rolled them in his palm. In his other hand, a worn piece of parchment, small and discolored, threatened to rip between two tightly gripped fingers and when he stopped moving, it was obvious that a small tremble surfaced in the digits.
Nyx turned in his chair so that his back faced the lamp and he held the parchment up closer, scrutinizing everything about it to its core. His eyes frantically searched the page for any sign of error and when they were left wanting, he eventually slammed it on the desk and tossed the bits in his other hand atop it. The chair moaned as his weight lifted from it and he began to pace the small space. His bare feet padded along the hardwood until he stopped along the bear rug that peeked from beneath his bed.
The Seeker’s gaze shifted to the window, eyes scanning each drift of snow as they shot past it with the usual howling gales provided by Ishgard’s absurd heights into the skies. As if drawn to the panes with purpose, he hissed in a breath when the cold from the glass bit at his fingers. Having learned his lesson, he resigned to craning his neck to get a better view of the Brume below, trying to see if any patrons still weathered the blizzard making its way into town.
“Surely nae… “, he remarked to no one in particular as he turned away and walked to the other side of the bed. In a single motion, he’d swept up his boots and already begun to lace them up on his feet. The bed lurched as he pressed himself up andcleared the room in a few steps, grasping for a thick coat with a fur lining and swinging it onto his arms. There was a dull thud as he made his way down the stairs towards the bar that resided just below his dwelling. It was still in full swing even though the sun had retired and would be until it made its debut again.
A raven-haired Elezen behind the bar had taken notice of the sounds from above and his wolfish eyes fixed on Nyx as he cleared the corner. Too busy to exchange words, he simply nodded to the Miqo’te, assuming he’d be going out dressed as he was. His assessment was correct when he was met by a blast of frigid air and the complaints from several patrons seated near him.
The door clicked closed behind Nyx and he exhaled. Steam rose from already bluish lips to join the overhead of smoke rising from the Brume. He barely hesitated before he crept forward in the unnerving darkness in the poorest part of the city-state. Only the most prestigious parts would have lanterns outside. After all, who would want to rob the robbers? The malnourished? The destitute and the doomed?
Snow crunched beneath his boots as he moved with a silent purpose towards the main aetheryte square. He often went there for thinking when things got quiet. When perched just right, one could see for malms and malms without the help of devices and gadgets. The Seeker paused at the edge of the architecture and raised one boot to steady himself near the ledge.
Just as he pulled out his lighter, hand tapping a pocket for a cigarette, he heard the faintest sound behind him. Slowly, he turned his head and he froze in places, eyes widened in an uncharacteristic expression.
The man that stood mere fulms behind him could have been his twin aside from the obvious aging on his face and seasons of scars littered around his visage. His eyes had a keen interest in them, one that looked neither friendly nor malicious, but remained half hidden behind a familiar looking style of coat… one with a fur lining that almost made him look like a lion. And when he finally spoke, the corners of his lips upturned in a crooked smile to reveal elongated canines and a tongue that harbored wit and charm.
